


it was you all along

by Smudge



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Pining, Strangers to Lovers, and awkward, being a mostly unwilling wingman with a plan, betty being confused but also not, by way of:, he just doesn't know that he knows, jughead knows all of her erogenous zones, reggie refers to himself as big reggie and for that i sincerely apologize, the jug/reggie bromance i didn't know i needed, veronica is the wingwoman we all deserve, we going cyrano trope with a twist, who is also oblivious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23624926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smudge/pseuds/Smudge
Summary: Holding up a hand, Jughead stops him. “I’m not helping you steal someone’s girlfriend, Mantle.”“You don’t get it, Jones,” Reggie says, shaking his head. “I don’t want Veronica. I mean, I’d hit it but she’s got this friend—”“Ask her out.”“I did.” He makes a frustrated sound, running his hand through his hair. “And it didn’t go well. Which is where you come in.”“Me?”“Yeah. I need you to help me be smart like her, I think she’s into smart guys.”Stifling laughter, Jughead clears his throat and sits up straighter. “What exactly do you want from me?”“I want you to help me get a date with Betty Cooper.”Or, Jughead wants to get to know Betty and he's nothing if not resourceful.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge (background), Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 180
Kudos: 459
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This should be short, probably 2-3 parts? Either way, it’s so soft and fluffy, it’s going to be absurd. 
> 
> Okay. I know what you’re thinking. You’re like, everything you write is fairly fluffy? And I’m like, I know? But I don’t really read a ton of fluff? Is that weird? So I get my kicks by writing it. I guess. I don’t know. Listen, I just want you guys to laugh and have fun with me. 
> 
> But really though, I hope you all enjoy this first part and I can’t wait to hear what you think about it. Mostly because I kept calling the mister “Bro” to stay in the Reggie headspace. 
> 
> He just sighed at me, don’t worry, he’s used to that sort of thing. 
> 
> Besos! Besos to you all! And as always, you can [tumble](https://thetaoofbetty.tumblr.com/) with me if you want.

“And why would I help you?” Jughead asks, not looking up from the book in his hands. “Didn’t you tell me just last week that I would be a virgin in my basement until—” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Reggie interrupts, waving him off before sitting across from him at the library table. “I know what I said but Archie told me you were smart—”

“Archie Andrews said that did he?” 

“Well, he said you read a lot of books.” Reggie scratches the back of his head. “Gotta be smart if you do nothing but read, right?” 

“Sure,” Jughead agrees easily, still reading. “Takes at least a third grade brain to read fluently and I’m sure you’re at least a second grade reading level.” 

“See, I knew you’d get it,” Reggie replies, leaning across the table. “Anyway, Archie has this hot girlfriend now. Veronica Lodge. Have you seen her?” 

“Probably.” 

Reggie smiles when Jughead finally meets his eyes, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“I’ll just bet you’ve noticed.” 

Shrugging, Jughead resumes reading. “I’m sure she’s objectively beautiful, all of Archie’s girlfriends always are.” 

“Objectively?” Reggie asks, confused. “Is that feminist for being banging hot? Because if so, then yeah, she’s objectively all kinds of fine.” 

Jughead sighs a long suffering sigh before putting his book down, marking his page first. “What is it you want?” 

“Okay,” Reggie says, drumming his fingers in anticipation. “Veronica and Archie are, like, tight, right?” 

Eyeing him shrewdly, Jughead nods. “Sure.” 

“Which is cool, man, it’s time Andrews was getting some again but—” 

Holding up a hand, Jughead stops him. “I’m not helping you steal someone’s girlfriend, Mantle.” 

“You don’t get it, Jones,” Reggie says, shaking his head. “I don’t want Veronica. I mean, I’d hit it but she’s got this friend—” 

“Ask her out.” 

“I did.” He makes a frustrated sound, running his hand through his hair. “And it didn’t go well. Which is where you come in.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah. I need you to help me be smart like her, I think she’s into smart guys.” 

Stifling laughter, Jughead clears his throat and sits up straighter. “What exactly do you want from me?” 

“I want you to help me get a date with Betty Cooper.” 

Jughead’s stomach feels like it falls to the floor. Swallowing, he tries to keep his breathing even as he takes in what he’s just heard. 

“Betty Cooper?” 

Reggie nods. “You know her?” 

“I know of her.” 

“She’s hot, right?” 

“Do you know any other descriptors for women?” Jughead questions, annoyed. 

Betty Cooper is so much more than hot, he thinks to himself. She’s intelligent and engaging and that’s just at the top of the things he thinks about when he’s staring at her in class. He thinks about her blonde ponytail and the way it swings when she gets worked up debating their professor and other students. There’s a chance, he knows, that he only actually pays attention in that class when she’s speaking. He doesn’t even need to sit where he can see her face to know that it’s flushed the prettiest shade of pink he’s ever seen when she’s angry or that her eyes are a particular shade of green when she wears that one blue sweater he wants to run his fingers across. 

Reggie’s answer pulls him out of his thoughts. 

“Hot is hot, Jones.” 

“If you say so.” 

Pulling the book Jughead had set down towards himself, he turns it over. “ _The Secret History_? How can history be secret if it already happened?” 

“I can see why you’d need my help,” Jughead tells him, taking a deep breath. “And what is your plan, exactly?” 

Reggie slides the book back over to him, tapping on the cover. “See, Betty and Veronica are best friends, right?” 

“Sure.” 

“So, if Veronica’s with Archie and I’m friends with Archie, that means I see Betty all the time.” 

_Lucky bastard,_ Jughead thinks, trying not to glare at him before giving a careless shrug. 

“And I was thinking,” Reggie continues, “since she’s always talking about books and stuff if I knew what she was talking about she might give me a chance.” 

“You don’t think she’ll know something is up if you suddenly start talking about books with her?” 

“She’s only gotta be impressed long enough for me to get her pants off, Jones. Then Big Reggie can do all the talking.” 

“Wouldn’t you be Big Reggie—wait, I don’t want to know,” Jughead stops himself, shaking his head. “And you think she won’t know what you’re doing?” 

“Nah, man, I’m gonna be real subtle about it.” Reggie leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table before putting his hands behind his head, looking smug. 

Fighting the urge to kick the chair over, Jughead rests his chin in his palm. “What am I getting out of this?” 

“What do you want?” 

“What’s your best offer?” 

“How about a fair trade?” 

“What’s a fair trade to you?” 

“I teach you how to talk to girls.” 

Jughead scoffs. “No thanks, I already know how to talk to girls, Mantle.” 

Reggie stares at him, almost disbelieving. “I have never even seen you talk to a girl, Jones.” 

“I talk to girls!” Jughead defends, trying to recall the last time he started a conversation with someone of the opposite sex. “I definitely do. I must. Right?” 

“You don’t. And what’s worse, is that you live across the hall from me and I have yet to see anyone come out looking like they’ve had a good time since we moved in.” 

Jughead considers it for a moment, trying to figure out if he was right and if he was really going to help Reggie get a date with his very own dream girl. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he fights a smirk when an idea hits him. 

Sticking out his hand for Reggie to shake, he sends him what he hopes is an innocent smile. “Deal. You teach me how to talk to girls and I’ll help you get a date with Betty Cooper.” 

Shaking his hand, Reggie sits up, a pleased expression falling across his face. “Alright, Jones. When do we start?” 

“How about now?” he asks, sliding the book back towards Reggie. 

* * *

Jughead is sitting back in his dorm a week later, feet kicked up on his desk watching a documentary on his laptop when he hears an insistent knock on his door. 

Sighing, he figures he probably knows who it is and gets up to answer the door. “Yes?” 

“Do you have those notes?” Reggie asks as he barrels past Jughead into the room. “I lost my copy.” 

“How?” 

“I deleted the email you sent me,” Reggie says, shrugging. “And then I forgot to get it out of the trash.” 

“How are you in college?” 

Reggie smirks. “Money.” 

_Of course,_ Jughead thinks drolly. 

“Let me send them to you again,” he tells Reggie, sitting in front of his laptop again, pausing the movie he was watching. “Any reason you need them right now?” 

“Yeah,” Reggie mumbles, pulling out his phone to wait for the email. “Archie talked Veronica into going bowling and Veronica told Archie she’d never wear rented shoes but then she said she might go if it gives her a chance to go shoe shopping and if she brings Betty along.” 

“That was a really long way of saying you were going bowling.” 

“Whatever.” 

“So,” Jughead says, trying to be nonchalant, “you’re going bowling with Betty?” 

Reggie nods. “I figure it’s a perfect time to bring up the book.” 

“You might want to memorize the name of it.” 

“Eh,” is the only thing Reggie says, still scrolling through his phone. “Hey.” 

“What?” 

“You should come along.” 

“As your fifth wheel? I don’t think so,” Jughead tells him seriously, irritated with the part of him that wants to say yes. 

“Jones,” Reggie starts, voice pleading, “you can help me and I can help you.” 

“How?” 

“You can make me sound smart in front of Betty and I can teach you to talk to the girls at the bowling alley. I’m sure there’s at least a five or six there with low self-esteem who might come back here with you. It’s a win-win.’ 

“Just what I’ve always wanted,” Jughead mutters, taking a deep breath to try and stay patient. “Girls who feel bad about themselves because of guys like you to settle for me.” 

“Right? It’s easy, man.” Reggie looks over his shoulder, checking outside of Jughead’s door. “Hang on.” 

“Gladly.” 

Pretending not to watch Reggie out of the corner of his eye, Jughead can’t keep in his curiosity while listening to him yell something at Archie from their open doorway. He’s gone for less than thirty seconds when Reggie bounds back through his doorway, a triumphant smile on his face. 

“Put on your cleanest socks, Jones, you’re coming with us.” 

“Did it occur to you that maybe I don’t want to?” 

Reggie scoffs. “Who cares? You get to eat for free—” 

“Free food?” Jughead interrupts, sitting up. “Keep talking.” 

“Free food and the very best rented shoes money can buy.” 

“Whatever. You had me at food.” 

Reggie claps him on the shoulder, making him wince with the impact. “I knew you’d see reason.” 

“You better be the reason I see nachos, Mantle.” 

* * *

He feels like he sold his soul for a plate of lukewarm nachos and the ability to spend maybe thirty minutes total in the presence of Betty Cooper. 

He’s not even sorry. 

Jughead picks at one of the cheesier chips, ignoring Archie pretending to help Veronica with her form while being less than subtle at trying to cop a feel, popping it in his mouth and chewing slowly. He doesn’t know if Reggie keeps sending the poor waitress his way on purpose or if she’s randomly showing up on her own but he’s trying to politely ignore her as well. 

Reggie is talking to Betty, his face fluctuating somewhere between sincere and smug when he meets Jughead’s eye. Betty, for her part, is feigning interest in whatever it is Reggie is talking about and he thinks it makes her a little more perfect in his mind each time she doesn’t roll her eyes at whatever it is Reggie’s just said to her. 

“What do you think, Jughead?” a feminine voice asks, cutting into his thoughts. 

He knows he looks surprised that anyone is talking to him by the light giggle that Betty lets out when he stares at her, cheeks full of nachos. 

Trying to swallow, he puts his hand over his mouth to keep some semblance of manners before answering her. “Of what?” 

“The book Reggie is reading?” Betty crosses her legs and rests her chin on her elbow, facing him. “He said you’ve already read it.” 

Reggie is glaring at him over Betty’s shoulder and Jughead can feel the silent threat. 

“I think it’s a bit on the nose for college life,” Jughead tells her and he fights a smile when she starts laughing, “but I think it’s one of the books we should all read to remind ourselves that there are way worse people than us in the world.” 

Covering her mouth, Betty loses the fight with her laughter, leaning against the hard plastic back of her bowling chair. Reggie nods at him and tries to capture her attention once more while Jughead goes back to his nachos. 

“Do you need anything?” the waitress asks, startling him. He hadn’t even heard her walking up that time. 

“Uh,” he starts, looking around, wondering if anyone else might want something, “I’m good, I think.” 

“You think?” Slipping her pad into her apron pocket, she juts out her hip, smiling down at him. “Are you sure? 

He’s about to say something stupid, he’s sure, when he feels more than sees Betty sliding into the chair next to him, grabbing the chip he was saving right off the top and popping it past those pretty pink lips of hers. 

Torn between mourning the perfect bite and being jealous of a stupid cheese covered tortilla chip, he doesn’t even notice the silence between Betty chewing and when she starts talking to the waitress. 

“I’d like a water, please,” she asks politely, leaning further against Jughead, much to his confusion. 

“Sure,” the waitress replies, her tone much less polite before she spins on her heels and heads back to the kitchen.

His eyes bounce between them, watching the byplay but he stays quiet. He’s not about to open his mouth and cause Betty to move. Even if she was eating his food. 

The silence is broken by Veronica’s louder voice with the lower tones of Reggie and Archie talking in the background. 

“Is that pushy waitress in her bad polyester trying to get her claws in you again?” Veronica asks, sitting on his other side, stealing a chip of her own. 

Counting to five silently in his head to keep from saying something rude about her touching his food, he just shrugs. He hadn’t really been paying attention to the waitress or the fabric she was wearing. He assumes it was a bowling alley uniform of some kind. 

“She’s not even pretending to be subtle, is she, Bettykins?” 

He tries to meet Betty’s eye but she’s focused on the table in front of her, twirling the end of her ponytail with a careless lift of her shoulder. 

“What?” he asks, leaning back and glancing at Veronica. 

Arching an eyebrow at him, she takes him in like he’s disappointed her somehow. “Really? You didn’t realize the waitress was hitting on you?” 

He starts to shake his head but Reggie steps over to him, his hand out for a high five. 

“Alright, Jones! Getting in there with a solid seven!” 

Annoyed, Jughead stands up, pushing past Reggie and a confused Archie, looking for the bathroom. Spotting the sign past the arcade, he sticks his hands in his pockets and keeps his head down hoping the line between him and the quiet of some probably gross bowling alley bathroom stays clear. 

Pushing open the door, he almost lets himself lean against it before remembering where he is. 

_This is why you don’t go out,_ he reminds himself. Not only had Veronica Lodge eaten some of his food, he’d been relegated to be Reggie’s wingman for the girl he was interested in and apparently had caught the interest of a woman who, while probably very nice, he couldn’t pick out of a line up if he tried. Wanting to kill time, he washes his hands, promising himself he’s never to go out and be social with Reggie again before looking up at himself in the mirror. 

_Oh god,_ he thinks, his face turning red in the mirror. He’d been talking to Betty with cheese on his face. 

Forget forced social interaction with Reggie or anyone he knows, he’s never leaving his room again. Grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, he wipes his face off before grabbing another to dry his hands, wondering if he can sneak out the back and get back to his campus before anyone notices he’s missing. 

Throwing the towel into the trash, he adjusts the hat on his head and takes what Jellybean would call a cleansing breath. Cleansing what, he doesn’t know, and when he asked she threw whatever girly magazine she’d gotten it from at his face but she swears it works. 

Opening the door, prepared to bolt out of a back exit he thinks he’s seen, he almost runs right into the waitress from earlier. 

“Hi,” he says, cheeks still flushing and feeling awkward. 

“Hey,” she replies, leaning against the wall with a smile. 

“Am I in your way?” he asks, trying to sidestep her with an apologetic smile. 

“No, not at all,” she tells him, blocking his exit. “I am glad I got you alone, though.” 

Trying to look for a nametag, he feels a part of his soul escape when she catches him, and he knows, immediately, that it definitely seemed like he was looking at her chest. 

“Uh,” he starts, trying to find Betty or Reggie over her shoulder. Hell, he’d take Veronica or Archie at the moment. “Why’s that?” 

“Because—” 

“Wow, you really don’t know when to give up,” Veronica interrupts from his side and he almost sighs audibly in relief. “Which is a trait I usually encourage but not this time, mmkay?” 

The waitress is scowling when she turns to Veronica. 

“Also, newsflash, you’re at work. Don’t be tacky like that.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I get it, you know,” Veronica says, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “We all do things we should probably think twice about when we’re trying to get dicked. I mean, look at me, I’m wearing _bowling shoes I bought_ because of that redhead over there—” 

“I’m just gonna go,” Jughead interjects, slipping past both of them before he can hear anything about Archie’s bedroom prowess. 

“You do that, Jughead,” Veronica tells him, not missing a beat. “And get Betty a water, would you? The service here sucks.” 

Nodding, he heads straight for the concession area, buying a bottle of water to give to Betty. He’s contemplating all of his life choices up until that point when Betty finds him waiting at the counter. 

“Hi,” he says dumbly, resting his elbows on the glass above the candy selection. 

“Hey,” she answers and unlike before, he doesn’t feel the sensation of needing an escape crawling up his spine. 

“Sorry I interrupted your night,” he mumbles, peeking at her from the corner of his eye. 

Her eyes open wide. “My night?

“Yeah, with Archie and Reggie? Veronica too, I suppose.” 

Scrunching her nose, she shakes her head. “You mean getting roped into going bowling of all things when I should have been studying?” 

Standing up straight, he takes the water the cashier behind the counter is handing him, wondering if they bottle it in the back for it to take that long, he hands it to Betty with a slight shrug. “Me too.” 

“Except I was watching this new documentary on the patterns of serial killers in the midwest and how they differ—” 

“From the patterns on the coast,” Jughead finishes for her excitedly. “It’s so good, right?” 

“I don’t know how I should feel about living closer to the coast but anything that keeps me out of a basement crawlspace is probably a good idea,” Betty tells him, her eyes lighting up. 

“Would you look at that, Archiekins? The weirdos are bonding.” 

Sighing, his shoulders fall, remembering that they weren’t actually alone and hadn’t been the whole night. 

“Veronica,” Betty says quietly, her cheeks pinking in the terrible and low light bouncing off the walls from the arcade. “What did I say?” 

“It’s fine.” Veronica stands next to Betty, handing her the pair of shoes she’d shown up in. “We have to be up early, remember?” 

“Early?” Reggie asks, staring between the girls. “It’s Friday.” 

“Well noticed,” Veronica primly tells him, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. “And yet, we still need to get up early. We’re jogging now.” 

Jughead fights a smile at how her face turns almost green at the thought. He thinks Betty must see it too with the way she bites down on her lower lip. 

“Nice,” Reggie says, leaning back to look at both of their backsides, Archie punching him in the shoulder for it. “Bro.” 

“I’m going to take them home, Reg, can you make sure Jughead gets back?” 

“I’m not a dog,” Jughead mutters, annoyed. “I can get home all by myself. Besides, I have to work tomorrow morning.” 

“It’s cool, man, I made you come, I’ll drop you off,” Reggie offers with an affable smile. “We can talk more about that book.” 

“What book?” he asks, forgetting the reason he was ever even there to begin with for a moment. 

Staring at him meaningfully, he tilts his head slightly towards Betty. “The _book._ ” 

“Oh,” Jughead breathes out, eyes widening. “The book. Yeah. Sounds good.” 

“And,” Reggie announces as Betty gives him a smile with a wave goodbye, “I got that waitress's phone number for you so you can tell me all about how you’re going to hit that.” 

Almost rolling his eyes, he thinks he sees Betty’s shoulders stiffen. Veronica gives him a quick glare before ushering Betty to follow Archie out of the concession area while Reggie steers him towards the shoe rental, confused and annoyed. 

Betty looks back over her shoulder, just once, but she meets his eyes and it's enough for him to keep his plan in place.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to chapter 2 of my little nonsense! 
> 
> It’s here, it’s unedited, but it’s just a fic standing in front of its readers, asking them to love it. 
> 
> I’m not saying I’ve been rom-comming while on quarantine but I’m also saying it directly. To your faces. 
> 
> I’ve been rom-comming while on quarantine. Which is unusual for me but also apparently more normal than calling Alton Brown’s cutting board sexy (sorry, SunlitGarden, for making it go there) and I’ve been informed it’s good I’ve forgotten how to do makeup because none of it’s gonna match my newly developed paleness (I’m getting divorced for that one, hit me up if you’re looking for a wife). 
> 
> Please enjoy the chapter anyway! And again, please excuse the typos, I know people are busy and didn’t want to intrude on their own quarantine adventures. I’ll fix it later, promise. 💜

It was too early to be at work, Jughead decides, downing his second cup of free coffee. Even if unlimited coffee was one of the better perks of his job and kept him awake for the earlier shifts. 

Aside from the flexible schedule, decent pay, and walkability from campus. 

He’d gotten up at five in the morning, only six hours after a very painful ride home with Reggie from the bowling alley. Which had included questionable advice on how to wait just long enough to text the waitress so that she was feeling just vulnerable enough to be thankful he texted her in the first place. 

Shaking his head at the memory of trying to explain to Reggie why that was gross and generally terrible behavior as a human being, he’s lost in thought when he hears the bell above the door jingle and he fights a sigh of irritation, not ready for human interaction yet. 

“Hi, welcome to—Betty,” he says, shocked to see her and Veronica standing in front of him. 

“Welcome to Betty indeed, Jughead,” replies Veronica, with a smug expression flitting across her face. “I’ll pretend not to be heartbroken that you left me out of your greeting.” 

“Veronica,” Betty hisses before stepping up to the counter with a friendly smile. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

His eyes roam over her, taking her in. She’s wearing what he assumes are jogging clothes and he tells himself not to look at the skintight pants she’s wearing. Veronica is standing behind her with crossed arms, both annoyed and amused and it reminds him he needs to be concentrating on anything but the visible curves in front of him. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh, uhm,” Betty stammers, eyes wide and turning to glance at Veronica. “We, uh—” 

“We took up jogging, Jughead,” Veronica informs him crisply. “And I, for one, am grateful that there’s available caffeine on our route. Right, Betty?” 

Betty’s cheeks pink as she nods, staring past his shoulder at the menu board while chewing on her lower lip. 

“What do you recommend?” she asks. 

“What?” Jughead is almost certain he should know what she’s referring to but he can’t stop looking at her mouth. “For what?” 

Just vaguely aware enough to hear Veronica mutter something about the mating habits of awkward coeds in the wild, he brushes it off to meet Betty’s green eyes. 

She gestures behind him to the menu. “Do you have a favorite?” 

“Blonde,” he blurts out before immediately closing his eyes in mortification. “Uhm, the blonde roast.” 

His face is hot and he can feel the heat across his neck and up to his ears when he takes a chance to look at Veronica who appears to be struggling not to laugh directly in his face. 

“It’s a smoother blend,” he offers weakly, swallowing nervously and wondering if she’s going to know he’s lying. He’s never had a blonde roast in his life. 

“Something in this place should be smooth,” Veronica says while unzipping a pocket on her sleeve, pulling out some cash. “Two of those. Medium.” 

Grateful to be doing anything other than acting like an idiot, he rings them up and gives Veronica her change, eyeing her when she drops all of it in the tip jar on the counter. 

She waits until Betty wanders off to wait for their drinks before telling him with a raised eyebrow, “It’s worth it for the entertainment alone.” 

Taking a deep breath, he silently admits to himself that maybe he does need to let Reggie help him learn how to talk to girls. 

Or, at least, one girl. 

* * *

He meets Reggie in the library that afternoon, feeling almost bad at what he was about to do. 

“Jones!” Reggie calls out, drawing attention to himself and making Jughead cringe, flopping into the chair across him with a loud sigh. “Man, I think this is the most I’ve ever been in a library.” 

“I believe you,” Jughead mumbles, shooting an apologetic face to the librarian. “You’re late.” 

“Eh.” Reggie shrugs. “I got caught up.” 

“Whatever,” Jughead mutters under his breath. “So, did you read the book or just look up the summary?” 

Reggie smirks. “The summary but then, check it out—” he pulls out his phone and slides it across the table to Jughead, “—I found this video of a dog letting a flamingo ride on his back.” 

Ignoring the video, Jughead sighs dramatically. “I told you to read the—wait, a flamingo?” 

“I know, right?” 

It takes them another five minutes to get back on topic but Jughead manages to pull himself together long enough to slide the book he’d brought with him across the table. 

“Read this one next,” Jughead says sternly. 

“Sure, sure,” Reggies agrees easily, pulling the book towards himself. “Have you texted that waitress yet?” 

“No.” 

“My man!” exclaims Reggie with his hand in the air, sounding far too proud of Jughead for blowing off some girl. “That’s how you do it. I was sure you’d cave by now.” 

“I’m not really interested in her,” Jughead reminds him, leaning back. “Shouldn’t you be interested in a girl before texting her?” 

Reggie scoffs. “You need to learn to talk to girls first, Jughead. It was painful watching you trying to talk at the bowling alley.” 

“I wasn’t trying to talk to girls there.” 

Reggie points at him. “Exactly and yet you couldn’t even talk to Betty without taking off.” 

Avoiding eye contact, Jughead lifts a shoulder and rubs a hand across the back of his neck. Listening to Reggie prattle on how he just needs to fake it until he makes it and how he should start with girls that go after him to lessen the ego blows of rejection, he drops his head onto the table, wishing for a swift and painful death. 

If even Reggie noticed that he couldn’t talk to Betty, what hope was there for him? 

“Which is why you need to come to the party,” Reggie finishes, flipping through the book Jughead gave him. 

“Party?” Jughead lifts his head up and shakes it. “Is there something about me that says I go to parties?” 

“Nothing does,” admits Reggie. “Which is why you need to do it. Plenty of girls, plenty of distractions if you want to ghost whichever girl you were talking to.” 

“You do know that makes you sound like an asshole, right?” 

“Why? It’s not like I tell them we’re dating and then ghost them or anything.” 

“You don’t think it’s just sort of rude to do something like that?” 

“Do you think they’re not doing the same?” Reggie laughs. “Jones, girls with options should all have magic acts in Vegas with the way they manage to disappear.” 

“I feel,” Jughead starts, resting his chin on his hands, “that I’m obligated to tell you that sounded both incredibly sexist and like you respected them for it at the same time and I’m too confused to respond.” 

“Story of my life, bro.” 

* * *

Reggie tells him to be ready by eight that night and after being annoyed that he was supposed to not only find something to wear to the party, he was apparently going when he’d planned to be in his bed snacking. 

Trudging up the steps to his door, hoping for a nap before going through his clothes, he runs almost directly into Betty. 

“Betty, hey.” 

“Oh, Jughead. Hi,” she says, fidgeting. “I was just with Veronica.” 

Sneaking a peek past her shoulder, his forehead wrinkles in confusion when he sees she’s all alone. 

“Did you forget her?” 

“What?” Betty clears her throat. “No. She stayed with Archie. I just came for—moral support.” 

“Moral support?” 

With flushed cheeks, she smooths her hair and stares at their feet. “Yeah. I guess. So what are you up to?” 

“Reggie is making me go to a party,” he complains, leaning despondently against the wall. 

“A party? What kind?” 

“I assume the kind with very little food but a lot of alcohol.” 

“Sounds like Reggie.” Betty shifts her weight from foot to foot. “Do you know where?” 

“No, just that it requires me to dress, and I quote, ‘like you tried, my dude’,” Jughead says, aware that he’s on the verge of whining. 

“Do you want help?” 

“With getting dressed?” 

“Yes,” she replies immediately before her eyes widen. “I mean, with picking out clothes. I’m free tonight so I can—” 

“Sure,” he cuts her off, trying not to appear too eager.

“Great!” Betty exclaims brightly. “Lead the way.” 

The entire rest of the way to his door, he’s very aware that he’s about to have Betty Cooper in his rooms and if he keeps thinking about it, he knows he’s going to make a fool out of himself like every other time they’ve spoken. 

She makes a beeline for his bookshelf when he lets her in and he’s not surprised, especially not after the way he’s heard her passionately debate books in the classes they share. 

“No roommate?” she asks, pulling out his copy of  _ The Bean Trees. _ “This doesn’t seem like a very Jughead Jones book.” 

“My little sister’s favorite,” he tells her with a fond smile before continuing. “And I had a roommate but I’m pretty sure he dropped out or his parents threatened to cut him off if he didn’t go to military school.” 

“The intrigue.” 

“Yeah, well, I’d miss him but I kept walking in on him in flagrante, so, I wish him well but I like being able to have peace and quiet.” 

“I can imagine.” 

“You live with Veronica?” 

Betty nods. “She wanted the full college experience and decided the best way wasn’t to let her parents buy her an apartment so we ended up living together.” 

Jughead doesn’t know how to reply to that without inadvertently insulting Veronica so he just smiles at her, walking to his closet and opening the doors before turning to her. “I have ten of the same shirt and the only pants I own are black so I really don’t know what Reggie expects.” 

With a laugh, she puts the book back and starts rummaging through his clothes. “You weren’t kidding.” 

Grabbing the one button up shirt he owns and fingering a pair of suspenders hanging off of a hook, she eyes him speculatively. He’s tempted to take a step back when the almost predatory smile curls her lips. 

“I feel like I should be scared.”

“Not scared,” Betty promises, thrusting the clothes at him. “Just a little nervous, maybe.” 

With an anxious look over his shoulder, he heads to the bathroom to change. When he’s done, he ends up feeling like a paper doll by the time Betty steps back from adjusting his shirt with a satisfied look on her face. 

“There.” 

Jughead tugs at the buttons near his throat. “All the way up?” 

Her eyes rake over him shrewdly. “No.” She pops a few buttons so his undershirt is peeking out. “Now it’s perfect.” 

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

She snaps the suspender strap against his chest. “You better.” 

Trying to think of something interesting to say that isn’t we should definitely make out before the silence gets awkward, he’s almost grateful when a knock on the door interrupts them. 

“Jones!” he hears called through the door and he rolls his eyes at Betty before answering it. 

“Why are you so loud?” Jughead asks, letting Reggie in. 

“You think I’m loud?” 

Clearing his throat, Jughead shakes his head and swallows a small laugh. “Not at all.” 

“Betty!” Reggie exclaims, making her flinch at his exuberance. “What are you doing with Jughead?” Turning to look at Jughead, he considers him. “Oh. She helped you get dressed. That was cool of you, B Coop.” 

Betty’s hesitant smile gives Jughead’s nerves a shake and he’s not sure what he’s feeling. If it’s nerves over going to a party he doesn’t want to go to or if it’s knowing that he’s supposed to be helping Reggie actually date Betty, he had managed to forget all of that while playing dress up with her. As if it had been a date they were going on instead. 

Which is what he wishes was happening. 

He inhales, trying to get rid of the terrible feeling crawling up his spine. “Yeah, Betty helped me find some clothes for tonight.” 

“I think Jughead needs to get out a little more,” Reggie informs her with a wink, throwing his arm around Jughead’s shoulder. “Nerds are getting plenty of ass these days, no need for Jones here to be left out.” 

“Yeah,” Betty agrees quietly, turning back to his bookshelf to start arranging the books he’d stacked on their sides. “That’s really helpful of you, Reggie.” 

“Why don’t you come to the party, Cooper?” Reggie asks with a pat on Jughead’s chest before walking towards her. “We can be Jughead’s wingmen.” 

“Wingmen?” Betty chokes, spinning on her heels with a horrified look. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Reggie says contritely before winking at Jughead. “Wingpeople not wingmen. Jughead is always telling me to be less sexist.” 

Nodding, Betty flips through a book she’d picked up and chews on her lower lip. “That sounds great but I’d rather not get in the way of your guy time.” 

Watching the back and forth between them, he’s torn between begging her to come to the party so he can spend the entire night talking to her like he’s wanted to do for months or to be relieved she has no interest in going to a party with Reggie. Which also includes him. Which is something he suddenly doesn’t want to think about so he circles back to begging her to join. 

“Are you sure?” he questions softly. “It might be fun.” 

He can see she’s torn when she gives him a helpless shrug and closed mouth smile. “I guess. If you’re sure I won’t be in the way.” 

“Alright!” Reggie gives her a high five. “That’s what I like to hear.” 

Telling them that he’s going to go get the car and to meet him outside the building, Reggie leaves them standing there silently in his room, staring at each other. 

“I’m sorry,” Jughead rushes out. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you have to come with us.” 

“It’s fine.” Betty shrugs, looking away from him. “I’ve never been a wingperson before.” 

Almost groaning, Jughead runs a hand over his face. “I don’t need a wingperson.” 

Betty purses her lips and raises a brow. “Oh.” 

Huffing in frustration, he doesn’t know how everything seems to have gone downhill so quickly but deciding to blame Reggie, he’s about to clarify what he meant when his phone goes off, a text telling them to hurry up adding to his annoyance. 

“We should go,” Betty says, walking past him. 

Dragging his feet, he nods, following her out of the room, locking the door behind him. By the time he catches up, Betty’s in the front seat, buckling her seat belt. Crawling into the back behind Reggie, he tries to catch her eye but she keeps her head forward, ignoring both of them. 

Slouching into the leather, Jughead just knows that whatever is happening, he definitely brought it on himself. 

* * *

He’s less than two hours into the party when he realizes that either Reggie was sending girls his way or karma worked a lot faster than he thought. Every time he tried to get Betty alone to talk to her, to at least apologize for making it sound like he didn’t want her around, she mysteriously disappeared and another girl showed up, offering him a drink. 

_ Has to be Reggie, _ he decides, irritated. Leaning against a back wall, he crosses his arms and looks over the crowd for the blonde hair he kept trying to keep track of all night. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” another nameless girl says, offering him a cup. 

Taking it with a small nod, he just holds it in his hand, wondering if he can pay to have some trees planted to offset the amount of single use plastic he’s thrown away in one night. 

“Thanks.” He barely meets her eyes before continuing his search for Betty. 

“I’ve never seen you at one of these before,” the girl continues, leaning next to him. 

“I don’t do parties.” 

“But you hold up the wall so well,” she tells him, a coy smile curling her lips when he finally looks at her. 

Sighing, because even he knows that’s a line, he stands up straight and turns to her to tell her thanks but no thanks, he feels like he’s being watched and spins, catching Betty’s angry eyes right before she stalks off, getting lost in the crowd once more. 

Handing the girl the drink she’d given him, he takes off after her, ignoring the offended scoff behind him before bolting out of the door. 

“Betty!” he yells, running to catch up to her, catching her wrist. “Hey.” 

She’s unamused when he gets her to face him, eyes hard. “What, Jughead?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. 

“For what?” Betty asks, tapping her foot on the ground. “Do you even know?” 

“I feel like I implied that I didn’t need you to come?” 

Her eyes go wide. She looks both shocked and angry and he can feel an impending sense of doom choking him. 

“You think that you implied you didn’t need me to come because you don’t need any help getting girls?” she questions in a dangerously low voice. “Is that what you think you implied?” 

“Uh—” 

“Hey!” Reggie calls, jogging up to them. “There you both are.” 

“Can you take me home, Reggie? I’m tired.” Betty is still staring at him with angry narrowed eyes. “Please?” 

“Sure thing,” Reggie replies easily. “Do you want a ride too, Jughead?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees wearily. “That’d be great, Reggie.” 

“Are you sure?” Betty snaps. “I saw you talking to so many girls tonight. Did you already get the number of whichever lucky one you’ll grace with your presence?” 

Jughead feels like she punched him. “What?” 

Betty glares at him before turning on her heel down the street to where Reggie had parked. 

“What’d you do to her?” Reggie asks, confused. 

“I’m not totally sure,” Jughead admits, following Reggie down the street with his head down, his shoulders falling forward. 

The ride to Betty’s is painful. Reggie keeps trying to engage her in conversation but she’s giving one word answers that make Jughead wince with each audibly angry syllable. He tries to tune them out, wondering how to fix something when he doesn’t fully understand how it got broken when a sentence from Reggie catches his attention. 

“Yeah, Jughead gave it to me.” 

“He told you to read Cyrano de Bergerac?” Betty’s voice is quiet. Contemplative. “Really?” 

Reggie laughs good-naturedly. “Yeah. I’m expanding my, uh, you know, reading selection.” 

“That’s great, Reg.” Betty smiles softly. “It’s always good to try new things.” 

“And that’s what I’m trying to get Jughead to do,” he offers her, with a wave towards the back seat in his general direction. 

“You’re trying to get him a girlfriend or something?” she asks with a curiously innocent tone. 

“Or laid. Whichever.” 

Jughead slips further down into his seat and despair. That is not what he wants Betty to think and doesn’t know how to convey that without telling on himself about the whole using Reggie to get closer to her thing. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, but, you know, he offered to help me too,” Reggie confides before clearing his throat and gripping the wheel tightly. 

“With books?” Betty sounds calm. Too calm. 

“Yeah. Books.” Reggie glances in the rearview at Jughead. “Just books.” 

“Interesting,” Betty murmurs to herself, staying silent for the rest of the ride, not even looking back at him when Reggie drops her off at her building. 

* * *

He’s still half asleep when the pounding on his door wakes him up the next morning, making him stumble in exhaustion when he finally rolls out of bed. 

To say that he’d had a hard time sleeping would have been an understatement. He’d lain awake for hours, going over every interaction with Betty, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong and how to fix it to no avail. Figuring his best bet was to probably come clean and then ask her to please explain why she was so mad before she killed him, he’d finally passed out at around three in the morning. 

Opening the door, he’s pushed aside by an irate Betty. Confused, he stares dumbly at her before she finally snaps and starts letting it all out. 

“Are you Cyrano-ing me?!” Betty yells, slamming the door behind her. 

“What?” Jughead is taken aback by her intrusion, her yelling, and the fact that he thinks he’d like to kiss her even more while she’s mad. “Uh—”

“I cannot believe you, Jughead Jones,” she shouts, pointing at him with an accusing finger before dropping her head back to stare up at the ceiling. “I have been trying to flirt with you for weeks. I’ve been trying to get you to talk to me for months, even. I started jogging for you!” 

_ For me? _ he mouths to himself, trying to connect all the dots he’d obviously missed. 

“Veronica even offered to help, you know. She knew that Archie was your neighbor and since, as she put it, ‘I haven’t had red in my bed yet’ she took one for the team and offered to try and find out more about you for me.” 

“Wait, but they’re dating,” Jughead informs her. Which was the wrong thing to do apparently because she inhales sharply and takes a step closer to him, her eyes burning. 

“I know that,” she snaps out, poking him. “It’s a very happy coincidence that they ended up liking each other. I went to a party just to have to watch you get hit on for hours while you stood there doing your best James Dean impression, ignoring me!”

“I spent the whole night trying to talk to you!” he defends. “You kept taking off.” 

“Because I didn’t want to watch you play kissy face with some random girl!” 

“I didn’t want to talk to any of them,” he says quietly, his stomach twisting with anxiety. “I didn’t even want to go to that party.” 

He swallows nervously when she moves closer again. 

“And you. You have the gall, the absolute nerve, the audacity to let Reggie pretend to be someone he’s not to try and get a date with a girl who’s not interested in him?” Betty seethes, chest heaving in her anger. 

Heart racing, he tries to fight the urge to walk backwards towards the safety of the wall, torn between asking how she figured it out and wondering if she’d ever forgive him. In the end, he goes for honesty. “In my very thin defense, I actually did it because I thought it would be a good way to get to know you.” 

“What?” Betty looks bewildered. “You what?” 

Jughead takes a breath and steels his nerves. “Reggie asked me for help but, come on, he’s not the smartest. That, and he said he just wanted in your pants so I thought if I agreed to help him I could get him to basically prove his idiocy but I’d still get to know you better.” 

“So, let me get this straight,” Betty says calmly, crossing her arms with a lifted brow, “you were basically using Reggie, because he’s an idiot, to your own ends?” 

Face flushing with the admission, he nods. “Yeah.” 

Exhaling loudly, Betty digs her hands into her hair before pinning him with narrowed eyes. 

“God, that’s hot,” she murmurs right before throwing herself at him, her lips landing on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get it, Betty! You can do it! I’m so proud of her, just being like _wtf you pretentious weirdo please take my pants off, I’ve been waiting._
> 
> That’s the quality content you people show up for, I’m sure. The content? The words on a page? I will take anything that isn’t a direct insult tbh. 
> 
> Also, if you’ve got rom-com recs for me, let me hear them. Or a compelling argument for why I should be allowed to turn the elliptical around so I can objectify the mister while he’s exercising. He’s already shot me down but it’s not like I’m going to give up. If he thought that, he doesn’t know me at all. 
> 
> And, if there’s any way I can get the DMV to use the alien-esque icon I made for my driver’s license picture. I feel like if the spirit of it matches me then that should be enough. 
> 
> I’ve had a lot of free time is what I’m saying. 
> 
> Anyways, I can’t wait to hear what you thought of this chapter! Besos! Pushing Daisies style besos because I don’t think I can stay 6ft away from y’all any longer. 
> 
> As always, you can [tumble](https://thetaoofbetty.tumblr.com/) with me if you want.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end, y'all! I'm so glad you guys came on this journey with me and I hope you like the last chapter! 
> 
> Unedited for the most part so please excuse the typos but it's a shorter smutty chapter and I have it on good authority y'all just want these guys to bone. 
> 
> So read on, lovelies!

He can’t quite believe that Betty Cooper is kissing him but he doesn’t question it. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulls her close, a small sigh escaping. 

With her fingers buried in his hair, she pushes him until his back is up against the wall, his heart racing faster with each press of her soft mouth against his. The scent of her invaded his senses and it was all he could do to keep his eyes half open to take in as much of her face as he could. 

Tightening his grip on her waist when her tongue traces the seam of his lips he almost groans before he stands away from the wall, turning them around to push a thigh between her legs. 

The soft slide of her tongue on his before she sucks his lower lip into her mouth makes his breath hitch and he catches her hands in his, threading their fingers together before holding her hands above her head. With his weight pressed against her, he can feel her start to squirm against him when he pulls his head back, breaking the kiss. 

Taking a deep breath, he rests his forehead against hers. “I’ve wanted to do that for months.” 

“Me too.” Betty’s head falls back. “Since I first saw you.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees, his eyes falling to her lips. “Same.”

She kisses him again, taking him by surprise. Trying to wiggle her hands loose, he holds them tighter, pushing his thigh higher, holding her still. 

“Trying to escape?” he murmurs against the skin of her throat. 

He can feel her shaking her head, the low moan that falls out of her mouth encouraging the first, second, third nip at her collarbone. 

“You’re driving me insane,” she whimpers, rolling her head back and forth. “You’re almost unapproachable and then as soon as you stop ignoring everyone, I can’t even get near you because there’s a line of girls in front of me.” 

“There was never a line of girls in front of you.” 

“Tell that to your admirers.” 

“What? A waitress? A couple girls at a party?” 

“In class? The girl ogling you from the back at your job?” 

He pulls back. “Betty, I have no idea who any of those people are.” 

“But—” 

Shutting her up with a fast kiss, he whispers, “If they’re not you, I’m not interested.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good,” she says, yanking her hands out his grip before he could react and she pushes him towards the bed, straddling him when he falls back on the mattress with a soft thump. 

“You’re a bit bossy,” he tells her, staring up at her in awe. 

“I know.” Sitting on his thighs, she pulls her shirt off over her head. “But I’m tired of waiting, Jughead.” 

“Waiting?” 

“Mmhmm,” she replies, reaching to unhook her bra, tossing it onto his face. “Unless you’re not up for it?” 

Throwing it onto the floor, he rolls his hips up, he pushes against her. “What do you think?” 

“I think,” she starts, plucking the waistband of his pajama pants, “that you’re wearing too many clothes.” 

Sitting up, he wraps one of his arms around her back to make sure she doesn’t fall. “I could say the same for you.” 

“I’m half naked,” she pouts, linking her arms behind his neck. 

Taking her in, he exhales heavily at the sight of her breasts on display, the urge to take one of her pink nipples in his mouth almost overwhelming him before he manages to look away. He stands, one arm still wrapped around her back while the other settles under her backside, supporting her weight. 

“Let’s fix that.” 

Turning, he lays her gently on the bed, leaning back onto his knees to take her in. “Beautiful.” 

She almost glares at him. “Where was this Jughead when I was trying to get your attention?” 

His eyes widen. “Are you serious?” Running his hand through his hair before leaning over and kissing her hard, he tells her, “I’m trying very hard to be smooth here and you just can’t let me, can you?” 

“Can too,” she mutters, crossing her arms.

Jughead groans. “Oh god, don’t do that while I’m trying to talk.” 

“Do what?” 

“You know what,” he says breathlessly. 

Hitching up her thighs, he sets them over his own, the palms of his hands sliding up under her ass until he reaches the waistband of the black leggings she’d shown up in, the sandals she’d had on kicked off somewhere between the wall and the bed. Slipping his fingers under the elastic, he pulls them, shimmying them off her hips and over her legs. 

“No underwear?” he questions with a smirk. “Really?” 

Blushing, Betty hits him with a heel on his thigh. “I left in a hurry.” 

“Is that right?” 

Leaning back over her, he kisses her once, twice, three times before moving down her neck, across her chest, over the tops of her breasts, taking a peaked nipple into his mouth, giving it a slow hard suck before moving the next one and down her stomach. Trailing light kisses over her abdomen, he smiles against her skin when he feels her pushing down the waist of his pajamas with her toes, her little frustrated groans amusing him even as he nips at one of her hip bones. 

When she’s got them pushed past his hips, he gives in and helps her, getting up off the bed to push them down and kick them off. Sitting up, Betty takes him in, moving forward to kiss her way up his chest, pushing him back to stand in front of him. Spinning him around, the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he ends up on his back before he realizes what happens. 

“Bossy girl,” he says with a laugh, putting his hands behind his head while watching her straddle him. 

Betty runs her fingers up his arms, letting her weight fall against him. “I think you like it.” 

Lifting his head up, he catches her mouth in kiss. “I do.” 

“Good,” she says, sitting up, running her nails over his chest and stomach. “Now be a good boy and tell me where you keep the condoms.” 

“I’d pretend to be offended you’re assuming I have them but there’s no blood left in my brain.” 

She rolls her hips, pushing herself against him. “I can tell.” 

He groans at the wet warmth of her sliding against his cock. “They’re in the drawer.” 

Leaning over, she yanks on the handle of the small drawer in his nightstand, a smile lighting her face up when she successfully finds what she’s looking for. Tearing the packet open with her teeth she gives him a vicious grin when she slides back, making him bite hard on his lower lip. 

“Jesus,” he murmurs, reaching for her, “you’re so wet.” 

Her free hand slaps his hands out of the way. “You made me wait, Jughead. Now you’ll lay there and wait your turn.” 

“And you were such a good girl a few minutes ago,” he almost whines. 

Shrugging, Betty pushes the condom down in a slow motion with a raised eyebrow, seemingly daring him to keep complaining. 

Hands raised in surrender, he watches her when she lifts herself over and then down, the slow motion coupled with the heat of her overwhelming him. Watching her bounce on top of him and not coming immediately takes all of his concentration and everywhere he looks offers a new temptation. 

Looking at where they connected makes him groan and grab for her hips. 

Watching her breasts move with her makes him lose his breath. 

Staring up into her face makes him moan her name before pulling her down against him, pushing his hands into her hair and kissing her deeply. 

Sliding a hand between them, his thumb finds her clit, hitting a rhythm with her movements. She’s slippery and he digs his fingers into her thighs, hoping they don’t bruise her. 

And hoping a little that they _do._

Hands braced on his chest, she keeps her pace, throwing her head back, showing him the long lines of her throat. 

“Are you going to come, Betty?” he asks, the fingers of his free hand brushing across her cheek. 

Her head tilts forward and with still closed eyes she leans into his touch, rubbing her face against his palm. His thumb pushes on her chin to get her attention and her eyes snap open, meeting his. 

“Are you?” she fires back with another slap of her thighs against his. “Are you going to come for me, Jug?” 

He can’t help but lose his breath and she smirks at him when his thumb runs across her lip, pulling it into her mouth, biting gently. 

“Yeah,” he manages to answer, choking out the word with another groan. “Yeah, I am.” 

Moving one of her hands to cover his, she shows him exactly what she needs with murmured encouragement. He can’t stop from wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her down to kiss him again. He can’t help the way he moans her name into her mouth. He can’t help any of it, really. Not the way he twists her hair around his hand and pulls, the way he sucks wet kisses along her jaw, the way he whispers endearments into her ear, none of it. 

Feeling her start to flutter around him, he grits his teeth when her body clenches, sending a shot of pleasure up his spine, the welcome heat of release coming as soon as she does. 

Breathless, she falls on top of him with a laugh. “I knew that was going to be amazing.” 

“You did, did you?” Arms wrapped around her, he buries his face into her hair. “I’m just surprised you’re not still yelling at me.” 

“I can, if you want,” she promises with a teasing tone. “Want me to boss you around a little more?” 

“God, yes,” he says, ignoring the vibration of his phone on the nightstand. 

“Don’t you want to see what that is?” 

Shaking his head, he kisses her temple. “No, not really.” 

His phone vibrates again. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” he starts but groans when it vibrates again. 

Betty reaches for it with a sigh, handing it to him. “It might be important.” 

Unlocking the screen, he rolls his eyes. “It’s just Reggie.” 

Glaring at him, she scoffs. “Does he have more girls for you to meet or something?” 

“Doubtful—” Jughead laughs, cutting himself off, tossing his phone and pulling her back into his arms. “Remind me to thank Veronica.” 

“What?” 

Kissing her instead of answering, he rolls them over and distracts her from any further questions. 

_jug, bro, ronnie said betty left their place mad af this morning_

_tell me she’s with you so i can tell her if her plan worked or not_

_it’s cool if i call that waitress, right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigh, this one was a fun one. I really enjoyed it and I hope you did too! 
> 
> I am really attached my Jug/Reggie bromance right now so yeah, that's a thing I'm doing. 
> 
> I'm super thankful to all of you who commented along the way and I look forward to hearing what you think of this final chapter. And you know me, I'm out here, just trying to give you all my besos. And love. And my best wishes that you stay safe, stay sane, and stay bugalicious. 💜
> 
> As always, you can [tumble](https://thetaoofbetty.tumblr.com/) with me if you want.


End file.
